Eheu
by AzureSparks
Summary: This is hardcore RomeGermania... and GermaniaRome. They really tear into each other, alright? Definitely rated MA/NC-17. Definitely definitely. One shot, lol.


The still-hot liquid clinging to his sword, an intense glare, which he ignored, fell upon his back. Turning from the little pile of Goths, Romulus wiped the blade clean of their blood on his cape, heavy with the fruits of previous battles, previous victories, his own minute losses. Raising his bright, though battle-worn, eyes to meet the harsh glare, now, he sighed. The exhalation came slowly, from deep within. Words refused to come to his sculpted lips. He took a step toward the frowning blonde, disregarding the loser's defensive stance, his small shuffle backward. Rome sheathed the sword quietly.

Romulus raised his hands slowly, as if to reassure the other man, but it was a cruel façade, he had no intention of peace, settling his gaze on the German's reddened face, working down to appraise him slowly. Another step closer, those raised hands shifted to the type that grab and tug from their previous, peaceful position. He took the blonde's wrists roughly, pulling them together and holding them above his head.

The German man looked away, toward the ground, but flinched and turned to the side as his eyes caught sight of the Roman's urge, pushing at the leather of his uniform. A beat of sweat dripped down the conquered's face, and Rome leaned in to lick it away. The German, Aldrick, flinched again. The closeness sent a shiver down his spine, Romulus's face pulled back, only to lean back in and crush his lips, a hint of his own blood upon them, against Aldrick's. The German squirmed, trying to pull away, unwilling and violent. He was spent, though, from the lost fight. The Roman forced his lips apart and invaded there, first, of all places.

When he broke away from the kiss, one-sided as it was, his breath was ragged, as was Aldrick's. Rome's eyes blazed, looking into the blue ones before they found their place elsewhere a second later, the red across the paler man's cheeks and ears grew. The corners of his lips sank lower.

Aldrick tried to pull away, now, wrists still cuffed by Rome's hand above his head, brows furrowed. He took a step back, but was unable to free himself. Romulus took a step forward in response, and then another. Another pushed the German into a tree, and Rome pushed him down to his knees, holding those wrists, bruising with effort to escape, tightly. He reached around to a pouch about his sword's sheath, pulling a length of rope from it, course and unfriendly. Romulus was focused, now, on his spoils. The Germanic tribe wouldn't escape.

Rome pressed his knee into the other man's chest, pinning him to the tree as he began to tie the rope roughly around his wrists. He couldn't afford to be wasting one of his own to keep them useless.

Germania looked to him, brow still furrowed, pride unyielding. His mouth kept tightly closed, the breathing through his nose was harsh and obviously unhappy. Rome grinned at him, forcing the tied hands behind Aldrick's back, pressing him again into the tree.

So many words came to Rome's mind, taunts or queries, even compliments and coos rose to the surface, but he didn't voice any of them, pulling at the buckles of his armor as the German looked at him with distain. He pulled the belt with his sword attached away, tossing it near the pile of freshly slain soldiers. If any of his own men had remained in the clearing, they left or hid well. As it was, Germania could see several, leering at him as the Roman undressed, his cape was discarded hastily. When he was disrobed enough to practically be jabbing his length into Aldrick's face, his grin grew infinitesimally. He guided it to the clamped lips,

"Come on, mea barbare," he murmured, "Don't act as though you don't know what to do, now."

The German considered his options. They ranged from fleeing to obeying, with a stray violent thought working in here and there. His eyes diverted from the fiery ones he secretly admired and hated, and grudgingly, he parted his lips, just a little bit.

Romulus forced the lips apart further, jamming himself into the German's unready mouth, half-gagging him. He paused, waiting to see if the blonde would respond, would give him a good go-around. The back of Germania's head ached already, the bark of the tree inhospitable against his blood-stained hair. He closed his eyes, refusing to look at the intrusion or the man attached to it. He felt the stares of the Romans in the trees, and he didn't want to. Why hadn't Romulus waved them away? Even at his most merciless, he usually complied to Germania's want for privacy… Rome simply didn't care, this time. He pulled back a little, and then back in, slamming into the back of Aldrick's throat. The German gagged again, swallowing back the reflex.

Fine. He'd lost.

He squinted his eyes closed a little tighter, setting his tongue to work against the shaft, sucking at it, hoping to finish him quickly, to be left alone.

Rome grinned again, thrusting a little less violently into him, now that he was cooperating at least. It wasn't enough, though; he grabbed a hank of the tangling hair, guiding him roughly, moaning at the friction and grating of Aldrick's parted teeth against the sensitive skin. The German coughed back a little bile, sucking hard, desperate, almost unable to breathe.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Rome felt genuinely bad. He'd much rather hold the man gently and make love rather than war into him. That part of Rome was far and away, though, and he would certainly not make it back in time. It didn't matter.

He felt himself close in on release, still shakily ramming himself into Aldrick's mouth, saliva running from the corners, tears peeking from his clenched eyelids. The German made a sort of pitiful noise, just short of a whimper, and Romulus came into the back of his throat, pulling his once-shining hair sharply with a moan.

Germania's eyes shot open, and one of the tears worked itself free of his lid, falling down his face as the Roman began to pull out. He noted the sheer intensity of Rome's orgasm: the brunette surely couldn't see anything around him, now. Aldrick ripped his wrists, bleeding, from the knot behind him, leaping at Romulus and pinning him to the ground. Blood dripped forward from his hairline, his eyes shone with hatred for the thing below him. He spat some of the Roman seed into the scrubby grass and kneed the bastard in the crotch.

Huh.

The Roman didn't come back down from his peak so easily. In fact, he'd been knocked out from the impact with the hard, stained dirt. His breath was even, however, and Germania didn't appreciate that at all. He straddled the brunette's chest, just in case he roused, but Aldrick knew immediately that he would have time for this.

Ashamed as he was to admit it, the skullfuckery had aroused the blonde. He scowled at his own indecency, but knew right away how best to deal with it. He began to unlace his trousers, shooting murderous looks to the watching eyes among the darkness of the wilderness, and they slowly slinked back, knowing better than to try and take on a beast who could render their general unconscious, who could be the lone survivor of that group of Germans. They were gone, Aldrick unsheathed himself easily now that he wasn't under surveillance. He was fairly certain that the underlings wouldn't return until he was done and gone.

He rose from the unmoving wretch below him, and turned him over, pulling what cloth had fallen across the man's bottom away. He crouched, a devious little smirk at the immediacy of the turned tables slipped from his lips.

The blonde then thrust himself into the obnoxious man, malice dripping from his expression, blood dripping onto the unconscious man's back and shoulders, finding its place in the minute crevices of his scars.

He groaned the the effort, it was tighter than he remembered. The friction was enormous, Rome's muscles weren't especially tense, but neither were they accommodating. He pulled back, pushing forward again with a violent passion. He hated Romulus. Aldrick hated how strong the Roman was. He hated how glorious and cruel he could be, how it made the German's heart race to be in his presence. He hated that grin the the flush it invited, those flaming eyes and how he couldn't meet them. Germania moaned as the muscles began to tense again, he heard a far-off sounding grunt, but couldn't stop. The pace he set was too fast, though. He was almost done and it seemed as though he'd just started.

Rome came to with a sharp, throbbing pain. He yelped a little, his legs numbed and flesh raw. He started to say something, but was cut off as the German forced his way in deeper and came. There was dirt smeared into his face and mouth, and he couldn't seem to pull away or stand. Romulus groaned a little, moving his arms to at least try and crawl away, but the German was still holding him tightly there.

Aldrick pulled out of him at last, pulling his pants up and grimacing. He spoke to the pitiful man on the ground.

"Get out of my land."

Rome sighed, pained, "I can't move."

Germania pulled out his sword, "Leave."

Romulus managed to look up at him, craning his neck awkwardly, "I can't..."

The German tilted his head to the side, pointing his blade at the uselessly numb legs attached to Rome. He cut into one lightly, not putting any force into it. Rome inhaled, hissing a little, pulling his arms up under his chest. Aldrick tilted his head again, to the other side, "Will you crawl away, Romulus?"

Rome cursed, and not under his breath, as he pulled himself a few inches forward, "If you want me gone, I will…" He felt useless. He was useless.

Aldrick knelt down, poking the sharp edge into the flesh of the other thigh, "I do want you to leave." The Roman winced again, cursing. The blonde leaned over to lick at the pooling blood. It was like a nectar to him, delicious and intoxicating.

Rome made a noise, caught between a gasp and a yowl, "I can't leave if you do that…" His voice was even, but clearly coated with concern and dismay and a growing distrust and dislike. Normally he wouldn't mind the long German tongue on any part of him, but the circumstances simply didn't invite happy thoughts, or willing passion.

The German didn't speak, lapping the freely flowing liquid from the tanned legs, wondering what he would do with the wretch when he was done. He pulled away, mouth glistening in the vital fluid, "…alright. I want you to crawl away." Aldrick licked his lips, watching as the pitifully fallen man quickly tried to pull himself forward again, his arms exhausted from battle, every part of him spent from ecstasy, his legs rendered useless by blade and nerves. That terrible grin came back over the German's face as he watched the blood gush from his cuts. He watched for a solid few minutes, the Roman only moving a foot or two in that time, panting and groaning, before standing again.

His lips returned to their normal, deadpan state, as he looked down at the bleeding man, barely clothed and covered in the dirt and fluid of other men, the mess of dead soaking into the ground. Another quiet moment passed, Aldrick sighed quietly. He loved the sight of Rome in pain, the taste of his blood, the sound of his agony… but only for so long. This needed to stop.

"Stop," he commanded simply.

The brunette again fell still, obedient.

The German fished into his pouch, pulling forth a few strips of cloth. They were dirty and rough, but would do for bandages. He stepped forward that step or two that the Roman'd managed to move, kneeling and wrapping the strip around his wound. It wasn't really enough to stop the bleeding; he went to some of his fallen comrades and began to pull similar homemade bandages from their pouches and pockets.

Rome watched him, and spoke quietly, "I'm sorry."

Germania replied without emotion, "I'm not."

"I killed them," Romulus pressed.

"Because this was a battle," Aldrick supplied.

"…" the brunette didn't know what to say. It was true, of course. It didn't matter how many men died for either cause. The German simply kept wrapping the wound, tight and secure, though Rome couldn't feel it. Once he was fairly sure that the blood was staunched, he set to the other leg, the cut there was less deep, but it was longer. It took less effort to cease the flow there. Germania cast off the spare bandages and flipped the mostly undressed man back over. He was pitiful, it was beautiful.

He sat the wreck up with a little difficulty, his own arms just as weak, wrists still dripping, though he didn't bother to bandage them.

"You still can't walk," it wasn't a question, but the Roman nodded. Aldrick sighed, heaving the other man onto his shoulder, not bothering to dress him, "You're ridiculous," he added, walking off in the direction that he knew the bronzed men had come from, his own legs a little shaky. Romulus held onto him, pride already withered.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, and was met with silence. He wondered why the German never seemed to apologize, but didn't try to find out.

When they reached the Roman camp, the soldiers simply looked the other way, ashamed by their fallen general, refusing to meet the sea-eyed stranger's glare. It was clear that they would be idiots to mess with this particular warrior, though they could have taken him easily in his current state. All the way through to the most decorated tent he carried Rome, setting him inside with a grunt upon entry. He started to turn and leave, but Rome spoke up.

"Gratias tibi ago," the German flushed. What idiot thanks the person who just…? He turned on his heel.

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up."

"I love you."

"Sh-" Aldrick took a step back, the red spreading again, "Never say that. I hate you."

From the piles of shining clothes that lined the floor of Romulus's tent, he looked up at the frowning, stammering blonde, "I don't care."

The German stood there for a moment, silent and dumbfounded. He eventually sat down, looking at the idiot evenly. That idiot smiled, a little of the feeling returning to his legs. He pulled them up to sit cross-legged, not one for worrying about decency anyway, and especially not at this point. The blonde grimaced at him, but couldn't seem to look away. Such a gregarious asshole, that Romulus.

"…stop looking at me," Aldrick added, uncomfortable. His hair was a mess, his face was smeared with blood (and other things), his clothes were ragged… Rome didn't look away, though, scooting closer.

"Hm?" he was a foot away, now, leaning forward on his hands, "but you really are beautiful, Aldrick," and he meant it. Rome was just the type of person that… well, putting aside his ineptitudes, on a deep level, he simply wanted to heal the hurt with something pleasant. If that meant forgiving his rival so easily, he could do it without thinking.

Germania was not so easily convinced, scooting away ever-so-slightly, "…eugh, what're you doing?"

Rome simply looked at him, "I want a kiss," Aldrick scooted back some more, frowning.

"You're ridiculous," he added, not getting up to leave, but certainly not giving the go-ahead.

Romulus didn't care about that, either, apparently, leaning in to place a kiss on his lips, not forceful, but not sedate. He practically crawled into the blonde's lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. Aldrick at first resisted, but quickly gave in this time. He was too tired not to. He parted his lips to the onslaught, slowly kissing the brunette back. To Rome, even this was a little victory.

When he parted, he gave an easily pitiful look, "That wasn't so bad, kissing me back," Rome mimicked the tone from before, but with a romantic edge that made Germania's stomach flop over. He refused to meet the Roman's gaze, looking away. He made a little frustrated noise.

"You're insufferable," he muttered under his breath, kissing his forehead lightly, it was dirtied but that didn't matter.

"I love you," repeated the ridiculous, insufferable Roman, suddenly pushing the blonde on his back, crawling onto him. If nothing else, his brute strength was noteworthy.

The German frowned at him again, but relaxed. If this was all the retaliation he was going to get, then that was alright.

Rome snuggled closer, moving up to his ear, licking it, tugging at the lobe gently, "Once my ass stops hurting…" he kissed the blonde's temple, murmuring into it, "…I demand to hear you say my name."

Germania simply grimaced, petting the dirt-matted hair softly. He resigned himself to it, deciding that that wouldn't be so terrible, and promptly fell asleep.


End file.
